The final line up was still unknown until late into the first batting team's overs. We started ordinarily, with Tiger being caught first ball much to the chagrin of all and sundry on the court next door. No cheering, no clapping, just the whirring of Vortex ball and the occasional cheer as the vortex went through the netball goals down the other end. See, this wasn't your usual game. Grog (aptly named) rocked up to "play" netball for the franchise Chookless Too but pulled out with an infected eye ring thing, thereby sending him to the sidelines. Grog had been advised by the missus that the obvious way to avoid being paro by the time a 10pm game of indoor cricket started was to roll up and watch the 6pm netball game, but don't go to the bar. Silly part was, Grog agreed?! All was going to plan till about 3 minutes past 6 when Num Nums rolls up and says "so, we going up for a beer". Note, there was no "?" mark at the end, for Benny was making what all and sundry would think was the obvious statement. Thereby, Grog and said author were pissy by the time 10 pm rolled around. So, after the 9.00 game of netball ended, we took to the now vacant court for the alterior motive of throwing the vortex, kicking the thyroid enhanced tennis ball and generally running around like, well….Chookless heads (ie, sobering up). Grog already noted early that there was a chick playing for the other team. I allayed fears that this wasn't actually Wa Wa, cos she had nice legs.
Anyway, by the time Grog jumped onto the court, the score blew out to 71 after 4. Cos none of us had watched the game at all, we had no idea that the 4 overs were over, but anyway, they were and it was Grog's turn to run amok, or so we thought.
After several overs of sobering up (ie, we were too knackered to keep up physical activities for 16 overs on the next court, so we did what any other nubile group of blokes would do, retired to the bar for another drink.
The usual spoon/inside out shot of Grog's failed him and after much a hollering and a hooting, he was clean bolwed by the chick, who managed to bowl a good line and length. So far negotiations to get her playing for the Woden Wanderers have stalled. This time, we did go up as one, all thanking their lucky stars that it wasn't us that had been bowled.
Anyway, time travelled on and my recollection of the night starts to dim about here. I do recall the umpire at this time saying "you have to pick two bowlers" and my first thought being "ah crap, I didn't know they were one short". Anyway, Damo and I (who both hate left handed bowlers) managed to pick the only two lefties in the side. Therein lies the rule - watch the game! Suffice it to say that everyone made runs and a super fit me managed to trouble the scorers (which is more than I can say for Saturday's effort!) for a tally of more than 20. Total score 186.
We took the field, fired up and ready to see if we could actually be beaten by a young mob of reprobates that could easily have been us 10 or more years ago. The first batting pairs were more ordinary than us, believe it or not and they struggled with our variation (ie, one off the pitch, one on, one off the pitch, one on) and managed only 60 or so off 8. It was at this point that my memory dawned and that the chick would be batting last. Grog had already made it his mission to ……"get hit for a zak by the chick" and he did his best impersonation with her coming in last of someone bowling so slow that time almost stood still. I think it not for him, we would've finished before 11.30 but with each ball taking .75 of a minute to get down there, we were in for a late night.
I recall we won by about 50 runs with Chrisso man of the match with a dropped zak by me on the back net. And flicking several backhand and forehand flicks into the side nets and then, not to be outdone, bowling a great ball that Whizz tried to kick back to the keeper, inadvertently bashing it into the side net for a 3. That boys and girls is how to make a good 1 into a shocking 3!
Highlight of the night, upstairs. Unbeknownst to this Chookless Famulee member, there are a new band of pool playing, drinking and jukebox hogging junkies sitting upstairs on a Tuesday night, thereby making it difficult to play ditties on such aforementioned jukebox. Anyway, Grog, between Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Prodigy and Creed, managed to slip in a Plastic Bertrand special. The boys at the pool table went OFF! God knows why, as I don't even think they were born when Ca Plane Pou Moi was written, let alone released.
Twas off to the Red and White for a deep fried Snickers and all reflected on such mysteries as "how the fuck did we win that?" and the like. The two mixed netball teams got done, the girls went down too but cricket, the mainstay of the club, managed a face saving win against all odds.
Comment of the night - (background - Mel and Loopy were hitting up in readiness to step in at the last minute. To prove their worthiness, Mel was sent into the net to bat against all tropical fruit sent down by Damo, Loop, Whiz, Maysie and the like. Gadj and Num Nums were wicky and first slip respectively. At which point Mel smashed one into the top net.) "What did you and Damo meet at a hit-the-top-net convention?" Benny Num Nums 8/1/02.
Part 2 - Tuesday just gone and once again, Gadj had to be fitted into a medi-ochre shirt. After stitching two together (sorry Skip/Sticks), Gadj was right to be wheeled out to play. Somehow, he also managed to wheel himself upstairs for a Tooheys Dry or 7. Hmm, something fishy there.
Gadj's was the only shirt with all buttons remaining and a nice addition, that being air conditioning in the right under arm a welcome treat for all and sundry in the vacinity.
This all after a sardine session in the Toyota "Squeezetheliferightoutofyou" Starlet in which the car took a weight of something resembling the net weight of baked beans on tour to India for young Warney!
Such is the fitness campaign in Canberra that two of the boys have started a self enduced embargo on themselves to not drink. Skip for 7 weeks and 4 days as at the time I pen this, and Knuckles, on a non drinking during the week embargo indefinitely. Good on ya boys. Of course, that meant that there was more beer for the rest of us.
To the game, we bowled first and made a mess of their top and middle order. After 12 overs of the arsiest fielding Reuben has seen, the young fellas averaging age of about 15 if they were a day, were on -24 and looking to be in deep poo. But alas, Don Bradman and W G Grace strode to the crease. They just happened to have ACT emblazened on their indoor cricketing trousers and one guy had a Victorian (BOOOO) shirt on as well! They made a well grafted 107 off their 4 with overs of Herc 25, Knuckles 22, Gadj 19 and Mojo plenty with all and sundry ducking for cover in the field as missiles were being slapped back down the bowlers end. Sticks' sore hand was sorer, and Mojo's pride was taking a battering as well. After all that we were chasing 83.
To the crease strode Gadj and Skip. Skip was in an obvious slap happy mode as he blocked, tripped and stumbled his way to 12, Gadj to 25. No obvious highlights excepting each others want to run the other out not coming to fruition.
Second pairing of Mojo and Wa Wa. This obvious plan of attack to stump the bowlers into bowling wides because of the left/left combo working with 20 runs of their 48 coming in wides! So far, two pairs, two skins!
Thirdly, the Pete and Pete combo with Schlangy sporting a Karma Sutra bruise to the inside leg. Pete was unconvincing telling us that he got hit at outdoor, when we know that his over swelled old fella smacked into the inside of his knee causing a haematoma, swelling and bruising. And that was his old fella - you should see his knee!
They made 23 with Schlang making a solid 2 coming up from his splendid 18 no on Saturday. Knuckles managed to spoon catches not regularly seen in this competition as he was practicing the outdoor version of the game indoors. Shame about that top net hey Knuckles!
With three skins out of three, out trouped Sticks, who will soon be sent on an extraordinary recruiting campaign (ie, bhunting everything in sight on a Contiki tour to Sth Effrika) to seek out conditions overseas and get inside the heads of the opposition (and perhaps inside other areas too!).
We lost the last pairing as far as skins go but won the night although the call of "surely we can't lose it from here" rang true for a while as Sticks spooned one up on the on side for the easiest of dismissals. Sticks made Herc run for everything except when Herc was on strike. There were several dodgy calls by Sticks who has his sights firmly set on the Houndy again this season, trying to wrestle it back off of Mojo who has been sent reeling by marriage. His marriage directly affecting his ability to don the Partridge Shirt.
Comment of the night - "That's not lime green, that's Partridge Green my friend", Mojo 15/1/02